Chasing Dreams
by featherfinn
Summary: Shizuku suffers from writers' block once Seiji leaves for Italy a second time.


**Chasing Dreams**

Two days had passed since Seiji Amasawa's departure to Italy. In the gray light of dawn, it was the first thought to run through Shizuku Tsukushima's waking mind. The drop in her heart, like a stone sinking in her chest, had left her alone the hours she slept. Now melancholia engulfed her. This wasn't like the first time, when Seiji's trip had been for a matter of weeks; not that it had been easy then, either. No, this time he was fulfilling his dream to become a luthier, to restore and create the instrument he loved so well. A haunting strain of music danced through Shizuku's head as she let her mind dwell on Seiji, the skilled violinist, Seiji who was always smiling, always teasing. The melody was slow and deep like the sea. Then the notes soared up in a burst of music, short, quick, breathless. A stream of sound, graceful and swift. Now rushing, pouring like rain. Crashing to the earth, splashing in colorful droplets of melodious sound.

Shizuku sighed deeply, loudly, as if to interrupt her own stream of thought. Knowing she would sleep no more, Shizuku rolled out of bed. Her sister had moved out a couple years before, and the room they'd shared was now Shizuku's, the loft replaced by a single bed. Other than that, not much had changed. Her writer's desk was more cluttered nowadays. She had started several novels, but lately she'd had trouble concentrating. Shizuku knew the stories she wished to tell, but the ideas would not flow from her mind to her paper with the usual effortlessness. Many an hour had been spent with her motionless pen poised over the blank sheets as she stared vacantly out the window.

The mirror in the bathroom was steamed-over from Shizuku's quick shower. Shizuku dried her hair, which barely hung to her chin in an older, more mature style; a change she'd made after junior high. She liked the calm but artistic look it conveyed. With a comb she smoothed out the damp locks so they would dry neatly. The light material of her casual, short-sleeved top moved in the breeze from her open bedroom window. She shivered. The sky outside was getting lighter. It had been a morning like this, she remembered, when Seiji appeared on his bicycle below her window. He had stopped and waited for her on the street below, as if summoned by her thoughts…Shizuku pushed the memory away. That was long ago. He was in Italy now. He would not appear below her window this morning.

Now she remembered another scene from mere days previous. She had told Seiji how she wished she could go with him to Italy, and he had brushed the tears from her cheek and smiled a small smile, shaking his head. "My dream is coming true," he'd said. "Now it's your turn."

'My turn,' she thought, seating herself at her desk and taking up a pen. Her eyes wandered to the open window and rested on the horizon. She wondered what Seiji was doing right then, at that moment. Did he like Italy? Did Italy have the same kind of sunrises? Had he helped his teacher fix any violins yet? Seiji had once described how he'd made his first violin that sang. "It's like creating a body for a voice that's already there," he explained, his eyes sparking with enthusiasm. "Like creating the music, not just the song." Was that was Shizuku did with her writing? The story was there; but where were the words?

She thought of the days spent at the library, of the manifold adventures she had lived through another's eyes. She thought of Seiji watching her read, his eyes resting on her as she grew dimly aware of his gaze. Even though they had no classes together, there was something reassuring about knowing he was in the same school building. It gave her a warm feeling inside. Just a glance, a smile in the hallway, a shared gaze. They had begun to see each other increasingly often outside of school throughout junior high. Seiji had shown Shizuku all his familiar haunts, and Shizuku had shown him hers. Seiji would bring his violin, and Shizuku would read him something new that she had written.

Resignedly, Shizuku turned back to her blank paper. She couldn't think, couldn't concentrate. 'I need something to loosen up,' she thought. 'Something to help me relax…to just write.' After a thoughtful pause, she pulled up an old, worn, and carefully-crafted book: _Whisper of the Heart_. Maybe it was time for the Baron to have another adventure. Yes, if she could just visit his world again for a little while…

_Beneath the brim of his elegant top hat, the Baron gazed toward the sunrise over rolling, grassy hills. His heart stirred with adventure, beating rapidly beneath his suit and jacket. His eyes flickered with glee. The world was just a journey, a voyage of discovery waiting for him; yes, this was an adventure to be shared. A half-hearted smile hung on his lips as his whiskers quivered with anticipation and regret. There was no one by his side to partake in his findings of magic and whimsy, no one with whom he could share mysteries and awe. Somehow the novelty of adventure seemed diminished. If only his Baroness were by his side; he would take her hand, feel her excitement, gaze into her wide, smiling eyes. No adventure, no promise of excitement, nothing could compare to standing next to her._That_was where he belonged. Not standing by himself before the prospect of yet another journey to be faced alone—_

A tear fell over the word "somehow" and smeared the black, inky letters. An ache sprung up in Shizuku's throat. She squinched her eyes shut, gave her head a shake, and reached for the bag of wafers kept on her desk. She popped one into her mouth and chewed it slowly, the loud, slow crunch filling her ears. Shizuku chewed twice and clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth over pulverized bits of wafer. Her vision blurred; objects grew fuzzy, watery, and lost their shape completely.

Shizuku realized she was holding her breath. She inhaled quickly, sharply, then shoved papers aside and flung her arms around her face in a torrent of tears and sobs. 'I can't do it!' she thought. 'I can't do this without you!' The long months seemed to stretch before her, an insurmountable length of time and distance. Her heart ached. She felt as though it were being pulled from her chest.

Tears once tightly locked away now cascaded down her face. Her shoulders shook with sobs, the sobs held back since Seiji left. Sorrow that would not be quelled washed over Shizuku. 'Seiji,' she thought, 'I miss you so much…'

Minutes passed. The sobs and tears had begun to subside. Shizuku drew a few sharp, shuddering breaths, then slowly lifted her face from her arms. She pressed her hands over her tear-stained cheeks. Her heart slowed to a steady, pulsing beat. She swallowed, sniffed, sighed raggedly. Her chest felt hollow. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down.

'I can do this,' she thought. 'If Seiji can, then so can I.' Then she had another thought. What did Seiji feel? He had always seemed so brave, so collected, like he always knew what he was doing. But that was at home in Japan, in their quiet little suburb on Tama New Town. What was it like for him in Italy, so far from Tokyo? If he missed her as much as she missed him— "Oh, Seiji…" she breathed. Why had she not thought of that? It had to be equally hard for him, if not more so. Far from all his family and friends and everything familiar, alone with the weight of what he must accomplish. "You're so brave, Seiji," Shizuku murmured. "Braver than I am." She lifted her eyes to the horizon. The sky was bright with morning, the mist had dissipated, and she knew what she had to do.

Shizuku pulled out a sheet of blank paper.

_Dear Seiji,_

she wrote. She paused for a moment, her pen pressed to her lips as she gathered her thoughts, and began:

_The sky was golden as the sun broke through the last shadows of dawn. The city below glowed in its rays. It was like a city of light, a magical land I had never seen before. Everything was quiet, as if all living things held their breath in awe of the first sunrise. Only the wind breathed, tousling your hair as you turned and looked at me. I felt like I was a bird in the sky, my heart soared so. But it was not the wonder of the scene that enchanted me. It was standing with you on the hill overlooking the world, knowing I was the one with whom you chose to share this secret…_

The words came faster and faster. Shizuku's pen flew over the page, line after line. When she reached the end, she tore out a new page and continued the letter. With ease and sincerity, Shizuku poured her heart out over the pages. When she reached the last line, she paused again, and carefully chose an ending to her long letter.

_You don't have to write back, Seiji, but I hope you do. I miss you at least as much as you miss me, but I know each day that passes brings us closer to seeing each other again. I will see you in a few months. I hope all your dreams are coming true._

_Love,__  
><em>_-Shizuku_

Her task completed, Shizuku carefully folded the letter and slipped in into an envelope she had addressed and stamped. She knew the post would not be taken out until much later in the day. Even so, she could hardly bear to wait another minute to send the letter on its way. But before she flew out the door, something caught Shizuku's eye. It was the story she had begun, the story of the Baron on another adventure. There he stood, waiting to take the first step in his grand journey. Shizuku glanced over the paper, and knew there was one more thing she must do. Once more she settled into her chair and wrote.

_Yes, the Baron would face this journey by himself, but he would not be alone. He carried his Baroness in his heart, and the light of her smile would give him the courage he needed on his adventure. Sweeping his top hat from his head, the Baron bowed toward the horizon. "For you, my sweet Baroness!" he cried. "I make this journey for you."_


End file.
